Never Too Late
by WriteInBlood
Summary: Puck loves the game, but finds no joy in life so there is no point in celebrating the latest victory - or any of them, really. As she watches him leaving, Rachel realizes she's destroyed Noah Puckerman, the man whose only fault was telling her the truth
1. Chapter 1

Never Too Late

_Author's Note: Hey guys I really hope you enjoy this. This story is AU and centers around Puck and Rachel and how some reckless decisions resulted in tragic consequences. This is my first attempt to write in a long time and I really want your opinion good or bad. Thanks!_

**Prologue**

"At only 21 years old, Noah Puckerman's already a college football legend. He's expected to be drafted in the first round of the 2010 NFL Draft. Yes, he's _that_ good," Sports Announcer Joe Harrison says as the Gators celebrate their latest win. They've beaten UT two years in a row now and Noah Puckerman has been the best player of both games, but he still refuses to take part of the celebration. This doesn't go unnoticed and the announcer continues, "And _that _anti-social!"

"There are rumors saying that Puckerman's achievements are driven by his anger. He channels it into his game," Mike Montgomery, Joe Harrisson's fellow announcer says. "He's an excellent player nonetheless."

"He's got talent and passion, Mike."

"He's got what it takes to make it in the League, Joe."

As Puck makes it to the locker room, some reporters try talking to him, but he refuses to speak more than a few words. He restricts himself to saying how proud he is, to congratulating his teammates and coaches and then excuses himself and hits the shower. There's nothing new to it. He loves the game, but finds no joy in life so there really is no point in celebrating the latest victory (or any of them, really).

Standing alone in the middle of the crowd of spectators, Rachel watches Puck's actions and tries fighting back the tears that threaten to fall.

_What have I done?_ She asks herself. She's only beginning to comprehend that her actions have consequences. That Finn, Quinn and Kurt have been right all along. That she's really destroyed Noah Puckerman, the man whose only fault was telling her the truth in a time of deception.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you for the reviews last chapter. They were inspiring._

_"The tender word forgotten, the letter you did not write, the__flower__you might have sent, dear, are you haunting ghosts tonight?" - Margareth Elizabeth Sangster._

A post game celebration is happening but, like all the previous times, Puck decides it's best for him to skip it. Deep down he seems happy with his teammates and with his performance, but he's overwhelmed by remorse and bitterness. For him, celebrating games was a high-school ritual and something he did during the short period he played for Texas A&M. In Florida, he doesn't celebrate, he doesn't live, he just exists.

The party's in his neighborhood and he can hear the music playing. That makes him curse himself for choosing not to live on campus.

The past three years have taken its tool on him and turned him into a light sleeper. All noises prevent him from sleeping properly and some of them even give him nightmares, but he doesn't talk about it. He prefers to ignore them, especially when his roommates question him about the subject. They freak out whenever they have to wake him up to stop a nightmare.

After twisting and turning in bed for approximately an hour, he seems to come to the realization that he won't be getting any sleep tonight. He pushes himself out of bed and slowly wanders into the kitchen to get something cold to drink. While in there, he hears some mumbling of voices and guitar melodies. He follows the sounds and finds his roommate and also his injured teammate's girlfriend Mercedes. She's sitting on their porch stairs, hanging up her cell phone and putting it in her pocket while strumming on her guitar with one hand. As soon as she notices him out of the corner of her eye, she says, still looking down at her guitar, "Want to sing your troubles away?"

He smiles, but gently declines the offer.

"Singing brings back to many memories of-" he stars saying but Mercedes abruptly stops him.

"When are you going to let go of the past? To let go of that girl? She's not worth all the endless sorrow, honey. And you're the one who said you were on the Glee club back in high-school. You said you loved singing and playing." She points out.

"You're never going to forget that, are you?" He says, laughing and regretting his big mouth.

From a distance, Rachel watches the interaction between Puck and the friend she doesn't know. In the past, she knew all his friends and acquaintances. Now she doesn't. Her choice, not his.

She tries her best to hear what they are saying, but is unable to do so and seems to consider herself happy with being able to see him. To admire him from afar. It's been too long and she misses those beautiful eyes that mesmerize her.

Rachel observes as Mercedes retrieves her cell phone from her pocket and hands it to Puck, who takes it from her with a confused expression.

"You should call your mom, Puck," Mercedes tells him with a stern look. "She called you three times after the game, but it seems like you decided not to pick up the phone," she continues, shaking her head at him. His mom doesn't deserve to be treated like that. She's his biggest fan and supporter and should be treated with nothing but the utmost respect.

He looks ashamed, mumbles an apology and makes the call. His mom is thrilled to hear his voice and he feels like the biggest jerk on the planet, but his mom will forgive him. She always does, unlike some people.

_"Congratulations honey,"_ she says. _"Are you celebrating?"_ She asks him.

"Not really, mom. But we can do it together next time you guys come to one of my games," he says tenderly.

"_We will baby, but you should go out with your friends and enjoy yourself. You were perfect tonight and I'm so proud of you."_

"I love you, mom. I really do miss you," he says, not feeling uncomfortable at all. Mercedes knows he's a momma's boy and she finds it so cute.

Puck hangs up the phone and gently grabs Mercedes' guitar leaving Rachel wide-eyed. She was told by her friends that he's refused to touch musical instruments in the longest time and she doesn't even have to ask them why. The answer is obvious to her.

He plays with the strings for a while, but his fingers are rusty from lack of work.

"Someone needs lessons," Mercedes jokes, causing him to laugh. "You still got it, Puck. You're just not used to playing with my guitar. You should go get yours and play something with me."

"You know Mrs. Pillsbury-Schuester, the head coach's wife, has asked me to join her after-school program. I wonder how she knows I can play," he tells her, showing his friend he knows she's the one who's told Mrs. Pillsbury-Schuester about his ability. "She wants me to help teach the little ones, but like you said I'm the one in need of lessons."

"You know I'm out here waiting for Emma, or Mrs. Pillsbury-Schuester as you call her. She called me not too long ago and I left the party to come meet her. I'm letting her borrow this old thing," she says, pointing to her guitar. "I've been looking for excuses not to buy a new one, but she told me about this kid who couldn't afford his own and I told her to come get this old thing."

"You can have mine if you want," he offers.

"Nah... I know how you feel about _your_old thing. It's better not to mess with it," Mercedes says, appreciating the offer, but refusing it. She knows only too well how he feels about his guitar.

"That's nonsense," he says as he leaves Mercedes' side and goes inside.

Still unable to hear anything, Rachel watches as the scene unfolds. Once she sees Puck going back inside the house, some stupid impulse take over her. She gets the feeling Mercedes is a good friend of Noah's and maybe she'll provide her some information that will ease Rachel's mind and let her heart finally be soothed.

She approaches Mercedes and waits for the girl to notice her. It takes a moment, but Mercedes soon raises her head and meets Rachel's eyes for the first time. She goes pale upon seeing Rachel. So far, she's just the girl she knows from pictures. The girl she dislike so much without even knowing.

"You shouldn't be here," Mercedes says, not caring about how rude she sounds. "I advise you to stop whatever the hell you think you're doing," she continues bluntly.

"It seems like you already have your mind made up about me," Rachel replies, just as brutally, but quickly regrets her tone of voice. She's here to make friends and is already getting herself an enemy.

"I do, and you should go." Mercedes warns Rachel once again, but she doesn't move.

"Noah seems to really open up to you," Rachel points out, trying unsuccessfully to gain Mercedes' trust.

"And why do you care? Are you like jealous or something?"

"No, it's just-"

"'Cause I don't see a ring," Mercedes interrupts with harsh and cruel words and Rachel seems to know it's a low blow towards her.

"Don't push me," Rachel says, glaring at Mercedes.

"You got spunk... and I don't like it one bit. Now leave before I make sure your next period comes out of your nose," Mercedes starts threatening Rachel, dropping her guitar and standing up. She knows how badly Rachel's already hurt Puck and she's protective of him.

The girls stare at one another, neither making a movement.

"M.J, I'm letting you borrow my guitar. I have kept it these past years because it was really special, but I think it's time to let go of it," Puck says loudly, speaking from inside the house, calling Mercedes by her nickname. As he speaks, he half smiles, remembering how special the moment he was given the guitar was for him. "Just put it to some good use...The one who shall not be named would have wanted that way…well, I guess so…whatever," he continues, not knowing the person he's just spoken about is standing outside his lawn.

He finally returns, holding the guitar Rachel gave him years ago in his left hand. Mercedes panics, but Rachel just holds her head high with the dignity she has left.

As he sees the girl who destroyed his heart, he comes to a dead stop and almost drops the instrument he's holding. A heavy excruciating silence crashes down upon them, knocking the breath out of their lungs. Both Mercedes' and Rachel's eyes stare at Puck's, but he remains motionless, his face void of expression.

Their eyes meet. It's the first time in a _long_ time.

He looks confounded, but a million other emotions dance in his hazel eyes.

She looks like her stomach is churning and she gnaws her lip before she looks at him with big doe eyes, pondering what to say.

Finally, he speaks, slowly and clearly.

"M.J, can you believe I was five when my mom told me ghosts wouldn't scare me forever?" he blurts out something that seems random, but that isn't random at all, "I didn't believe her then, but it turns out she was right," he finishes, giving Rachel her second low blow in a row before smashing the guitar on the floor. He will regret it later. M.J or some random kid would have made good use of it. It really was an awesome guitar.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for reading and adding this story to your alerts, but please remember that your feedback is essential. So, good or bad, please post how you feel about this chapter._

_To those who have commented, thanks. Your reviews have been truly important and enlightening. Please keep them coming._

_**xoXOCutieOXox,**__you're right. This story is AU an even though__Mercedes__is the same Mercedes from the show, she's only just met Rachel. Tina, Archie, Emma and some other people also don't know Rach yet. They're Puck's friends, colleagues, teammates or roommates from Florida and it's the first time Rachel's visiting him there and you'll see why in this chapter.__**Crimson-Kiss17**__, I guess this explanation solves your doubt, too.__**Lunar Kitty Kat**__, I'm glad you're intrigued, but I'm sorry this seems a little confusing. Puck's angry and you'll see he has every reason to be, but Rachel's not entirely to blame. She's also a victim at times, but I can't say too much. The reason Mercedes was rude is because she's Puck's best friend in Florida and she hasn't been given any reason to like Rachel since she's only heard about Puck's feelings. I know she was too rude, but as a best friend sometimes I act the way M.J has acted. Also, one of Rachel's sins is revealed in this chapter and I hope it's not too disappointing._

_**Italics**___are used for_flashbacks_and _phone conversations._

"_To win you've got to stay in the game." - Claude M. Bristol._

His lack of desire to have a social life seems to bother him at the moment. Had he gone to the party, he wouldn't have too much fun, or fun at all, but he would certainly be in a better position than the one he's currently in.

He looks blinded by his anger and resentment and that is the only thing preventing him from feeling pathetic for being where he is.

Right now, he is locked in his bedroom and his mind is racing as he paces around like a wild man and, most importantly, hides from Rachel and from a serious amount of heartache.

Rachel's presence suffocates him and despite two or three very unique and special pictures of her and the guitar she gave him - the one he just destroyed without giving it second thought - he kept nothing from her. Her belongings and treasured items, left behind by her first, were also left behind by him a couple of years ago, when he transferred schools from Texas to Florida, in hopes of regaining his bearings and putting his mind at ease. The pictures he kept are hidden in one of his drawers. What he can't see, he doesn't think about. At least that's what he tells himself.

The change of schools didn't do miracles. It turned out not to be as wonderful as he expected it to be, but it gave him back his sanity. Unfortunately, he can't say the same about his desire to live.

He thinks of life back in Texas and remembers how playing there felt like. What started out as the experience of a lifetime for him ended up turning into a nightmare he never anticipated. While in there, he reached the point where going to school day after day made him feel trapped in an environment where he could do nothing right, at least from Rachel's point of view. Life in Texas is something he has to forget, or he'll lose his mind and that's just about the only thing he doesn't allow himself to do. He still pays for the last time he did it.

_"God, I can't do this anymore," Puck shouts in front of his and Rachel's families. Their friends Kurt, Finn and Quinn are also present. He's so angry and frustrated that he doesn't even notice the tears rolling down his face._

_"Well neither can I," Rachel replies in the coldest tone and walks past Puck towards the door. She doesn't look back. Their life together is over and the next few months in Texas turn out to be a struggle for the boy who only told the love of his life what his heart was asking him to tell._

The price of losing his mind was way too high. He never expected Rachel to take his words as seriously as she did and he thought she'd be able to see what he was trying to show her and fight for them. Instead, she walked away and not once looked back. That makes him wonder if she didn't just use his words as an excuse to leave him.

Three years have gone by since that fateful day in which she decided to walk out on them. Three painful and excruciating years, but Puck seems to have reached the state of numbness and acceptance. Acceptance that some things go beyond his control.

And now this. This fucked up appearance after he finds the strength to take all the necessary steps to cut any remaining ties with her without having to personally contact her. It's illogical, nonsensical. He goes out of his way to get things done, but apparently karma has to go against him and his wishes.

To find Rachel outside his lawn tonight feels like having someone stab a rust dagger through his heart, or something close to it. He is not willing to be stabbed for real to figure if it would hurt more or less. And even though Puck knows she had reasons to show up now, he never expected her to find the guts to do it and he prayed for her not to come.

She spends three years without making an appearance, doesn't give him the time of day when he needs her to and now she stands outside his house for what? To say a final goodbye? To ease her conscience because, like him, she has one? Her presence turtures and confuses him, but he won't give her the pleasure to see him suffer. Those days are _so_ over.

Dumbfounded, Rachel still has her feet glued to the same spot. She hasn't moved yet and she's still looking down at Puck's shattered guitar. She can't believe what just happened before her eyes. She thought his post game reaction, or lack there of, was bad, but this just takes the cake.

She's torn between letting him cool off and talk to him later, and following him now, but as she contemplates her options and looks to the door, Mercedes makes the decision for her.

"You are not going in." The girl says matter-of-factly. She's like a prison guard.

But Rachel doesn't listen to Mercedes' words and walks towards the house, stopping in front of the girl who's twice her size.

"I'll stay here all night," Rachel kindly informs her.

"I'll call the cops on you," Mercedes replies dead-seriously.

"You'll regret it when my parents call Noah and ask him to bail me out," Rachel says smugly. "Or maybe they'll come do it themselves and stop by and visit him while they're in town."

For a moment, Mercedes studies Rachel.

She's the only friend from Florida who knows everything, all the gory details of what transpired between Puck and Rachel and deep down she knows Rachel's actions were the actions of someone who was out of control and couldn't find her way back. Finally, Mercedes breaks the scary silence.

"You don't deserve the chance to talk to him. In fact, you don't deserve anything from him. Not his love, not his compassion and not his forgiveness, but the choice is his to make," she says and continues, "I'm letting you in, but if he kicks you out, you better leave."

"I will," Rachel promises.

"Don't hurt him more than you already have," Mercedes warns Rachel, but her words come out sounding more like a request. It's then that Rachel realizes she should thank Mercedes for taking such good care of Puck. After all, she failed miserably at it.

It takes her a while, but Rachel finds Puck's bedroom door. It's closed, just like his heart seems to be, and she doesn't know what to do next. She takes a deep breath, recomposes herself and opens the door without knocking. She doesn't really walk in. Instead, she stands in his doorway observing him.

Puck's no longer pacing. He's lying flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

For a moment that seems to last an eternity, Rachel takes in the sight of his bedroom. His mom, Mercedes and this other guy and girl, his sister, Finn, Quinn, Kurt... there are pictures of them all over his walls. She wonders how many pictures of her he still has. He must have kept at least one because Mercedes was able to recognize her as soon as she arrived.

"I don't want you in here. It's a Rachel free environment," Puck says coldly and uncaringly.

"Out of sight, out of mind?" Rachel asks, still looking at the framed pictures as if they were something unpleasant. "Really?"

"Just leave, Rachel. It's what you do best anyway," he poisons, not tearing his eyes from the ceiling. It seems to fascinate him at the moment.

"I'm here to talk to you and-"

"We've got nothing to discuss, unless you're here to give me back what I sent you a month ago," he interrupts her rudely.

"I-," she starts speaking, but he interrupts her again.

"Please say that's the reason you're here. Please, Rachel." He begs her. He's running out of patience and wants her gone.

"No. Noah-"

"Since there's no real reason for you to be here, you can leave this room through the same door you came in. Just get the hell out of here," he orders harshly, but she doesn't move.

Growing tired of looking at the ceiling, he turns to his nightstand and grabs his cell phone. There are eleven missed calls and they're probably from his mom, from his other roommates or maybe from his teammates. He knows that he's just trying to ignore Rachel's presence and that he's acting like a spoiled brat, but he doesn't care. He has earned that right. To piss her off, he decides to return one of the calls, leaving Rachel frustrated, but also curious because she can't hear the other end of the conversation.

_"Puck, where are you man? You're missing one hell of a party."_ Tina, his other roommate, tells him loudly. _"Get your ass here NOW! And bring M.J back with you."_

"I'll see you in five, Tina," he tells his friend and flips his cell phone shut. He quickly grabs his wallet and car keys.

"You're not going to leave me here talking to myself, are you?" Rachel asks. "Noah, I'm not asking you for much. Just give me ten minutes, listen to what I have to say to you and then I'll leave if you still want me to."

"I didn't ask for ten, but just for one minute of your precious time when I went looking for you and you…" he mutters and stops himself from saying things he shouldn't say. "Listen Rachel, I really don't see how ten minutes will erase the last three years," he looks at her as he sits up.

"It's not supposed to," she admits, defeated.

"You better believe that!" He snaps at her, laying the blame for their current situation on her.

She finally leaves the doorway, but instead of leaving the room she walks closer to him. The action causes him to flinch, though he tries to hide it from her.

Instinctively, he folds his arms over his chest. She watches his actions and can't help thinking how sexy he looks.

During the game she was unable to admire his body because of his uniform and protection equipment, but ever since she arrived at his house, she noticed that he's matured. His boyishness is gone and his face is a strong face with clean, sharp features. He's well-muscled but not overly so. He looks different, but he's still Noah Puckerman, the man she has fallen in love with. And, as she expected, he still wears the stupid Mohawk.

"You were just perfectly fine standing where you were. There's no need for you to make yourself comfortable. You're still leaving in less than ten minutes because I'm going out."

She ignores his comment and walks even closer to him. At this point, he begins to lose the composure he's struggling so hard to maintain.

"Don't be afraid, Noah. I'm not going to jump you or force you into doing something with me."

"You haven't let me near you in three years, let alone touch you. I'd be a little naive to think that's the reason why you're here."

He doesn't know what she really wants and the anticipation is killing him.

"I know the feeling of being uncomfortable in your own bed," she tells him softly as she observes his tense frame, but he says nothing. "I haven't been able to sleep ever since you sent Finn and Kurt to my place in New York. I had been thinking a lot about us before that day. There's no reason to lie about it so I'll be honest and straight forward and tell you I was planning on contacting you," the admission doesn't get a reaction from him. He has built a wall she can't tear down. "I can't say I wasn't a bit shocked with your timing."

"Better late than ever," he mumbles.

"I don't think that's the only reason you have for doing this now. I heard you're being drafted next year. Is it true?" She asks him.

"Don't take it personally, but it's really none of your business."

"So it is true," she smiles proudly, but her smile quickly fades. It's replaced with disappointment.

"Don't do this, Rachel. Don't look at me with those hurt eyes because I'm not doing anything wrong here," Puck defends himself. He's unable to believe she's upset by his actions.

"You want to protect yourself from me, don't you Noah? I can't believe that's how low we've sunk. I can't believe you feel this way," she whispers brokenly.

" Don't put words in my mouth, Rachel."

"Noah, I don't represent a threat to your brilliant future. I'm not this cold hearted bitch you think I am. "

"You want to know the truth, Rachel? You want to know why I'm doing all of this? It's because I can't give you the benefit of the doubt and believe you. It's not like you haven't changed your mind before," he taunts her into a fight.

"You know better, Noah. Our relationship was… _is_ bigger than that and you know it," she says, "you can't believe I'd be capable of putting your career at risk and-," she's offended that such thought even crossed his mind, but he doesn't show any signs of being ashamed. He has no reason to be. Irritated, he interrupts her.

"I can't believe you were capable of doing half the things you did to me, but that doesn't change anything. We've been postponing this decision for a long time, Rachel. The possibility of being drafted just sped things up a bit."

"This is very unlike you, Noah. You're doing and saying things someone asked you to. This is your step dad's idea, isn't it? What the hell is wrong with him? He thinks I'm going to use what we had against you? That I'll want to extort money from you in order to be quiet? You'll be a golden pro in no time and you'll do a lot of publicity and he's afraid I'll spill the beans on your life story and hurt your groupies. That's just rich, Noah. That's just so-"

"You're saying I'm incapable of making my own decisions?" He says, interrupting her _again_. "Well I'm not. I think this has gone on long enough and I think it's time for you to go," he tells her, getting out of his bed and looking down at her. "I'm going out and there's no way in hell you'll be here when I get back." He informs her.

"We're not done talking, Noah," she shouts as she panics. After all, she's running out of time and that's entirely her fault. "And you know what? I'm not signing all that crap and that confidentiality agreement can kiss my ass," she tells him and he stares at her and her newly found vocabulary. She's breathing hard now and he's pissed. It takes them a while to cool off and when they do, he looks down at his cell phone. It's eleven o'clock and there's still plenty of time for him to distract himself at the party. He decides he should go. This conversation is taking them nowhere and is only making him mad. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and when he reopens them, he realizes she's not planning on leaving. He glares and snaps at her.

"Didn't I ask you to leave?"

"You did, but I'm hoping you'll change your mind and ask me to stay," she pleads, watching his eyes for a positive response. One that doesn't come.


	4. Chapter 4

_"Better a broken promise than none at all." - Mark Twain_

As Puck reaches the place where the party is being held with Mercedes by his side, feelings of uncertainty and apprehension course through his veins.

"I'm not so sure about this, M.J," Puck looks down, revealing his inner struggle, believing Mercedes hasn't noticed it yet.

"We're going in and that's not up for debate. Stop being such a nag about this, Puckerman," Mercedes warns him in a stern voice.

"But-"

"I'll carry you kicking and screaming if I have to. Come on, you'll have fun," she interrupts him and her threatening tone discourage Puck's further attempts to skip the party.

A moment goes by, and Puck begins to laugh-softly, as if to himself.

"I don't how you put up with my crap sometimes..." He says, shaking his head, complimenting his friend. She smiles in return.

"...but then again I don't know how I put up with yours," he adds, smirking annoyingly.

Her smile is gone.

"You're lucky I love you," she shrugs off his _oh-so-wise_ comment. "Now let's put a smile on that pretty face and let's get this party started," she encourages, patting Puck on the shoulder. "Your fans are excited about your unprecedented appearance."

"Sure...Crazy stalkers who scare me to death and don't take no for an answer are now known as fans..." he mutters under his breath. He gets exhausted just by thinking about the girls who are always trying to get in his pants.

"Speaking of not taking no for an answer-" Mercedes stars, making a failed attempt to bring the Rachel/Puck encounter up.

"Rachel's still Rachel... persistent as hell and always doing whatever the hell she pleases. Now can we forget about her, please? " he interrupts his friend, obviously eager to dismiss the topic. Rachel's the last thing he wants to discuss/think of right now. He's still trying to get rid of the guilt he felt when he walked out on her in the middle of their conversation. He knows just how bad he felt when it was the other way around.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just having a hard time believing you left her all alone in our house. _Our_ house, Puckerman," Mercedes points out.

"Don't worry, M.J. Rachel's already stolen my heart, my self-pride and my soul. I don't think there's anything left for her to take," he says, shaking his head in disappointment and frustration.

-x-

Rachel has the phone cradled against her shoulder and as she stares at her laptop's wallpaper - a montage of pictures of moments shared between herself and Noah - a new flood of tears streams down her cheeks.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up..." she mumbles under her breath. Her used tissues litter the bed and floor of her hotel room. Her hair is disheveled, her makeup is smeared and her expression is one of significant grief. The song, also coming from her laptop - 'I will be' from Leona Lewis - isn't helping her, but it suits the moment. The lyrics contain everything that she wants - _and needs_- to tell Noah.

"For the love of God, pick up the damn phone!" she says in a wishful, but desperate manner.

"Hello," a groggy familiar voice finally answers.

"What took you so long?" Rachel asks, struggling not to sound completely rude.

"Quinn's asleep. Try again later," Quinn says snuggling closer to her pillow.

"You're sleeping? YOU'RE FUCKING SLEEPING?" She barks. "Yo-You should be providing me assistance in obtaining Noah's forgiveness!" Rachel shouts on the phone, losing her composure, but not her precious eloquence. "This preposterous insanity was your idea and you should have accompanied me!"

Quinn groans. She's _way_too tired to deal with Rachel's crappy words right now.

"Can't you speak like a normal college kid for once? Please, please, please?"

"Fine! You-you should have seen Noah at the game and you should have seen his stupefied face when he realized I was standing in his backyard, but nooooooo! You had to be a-"

"The mistake is yours to face and the pain is yours to bear, honey," Quinn cuts Rachel off and offers no sympathy.

"You sound like Kurt," Rachel mutters offended.

"Because he's right. That cousin of mine can be a little bitch sometimes, but he has his moments."

"Whatever," Rachel says, rolling her eyes. She's still pissed at Kurt for paying her a visit on Noah's behalf and for not having the decency to warn her beforehand. His judgmental mind is not pleasing her either.

"Rach, this is something you have to do on your own. I'd be no good there. Remember when I went to Texas to talk things out with Finn? I didn't drag your cute sorry ass with me because there'd be no point in it."

"But Noah would listen to you and maybe he'd give me a chance to explain myself instead of kicking me to the curb. I shouldn't have waited this long to come out here. He thinks the only reason I have now is..." Rachel starts, but decides it's not worth discussing everything all over again. What's done is done and she needs to handle the situation the best way she can. "You know what? Let's not even bring it up. I'm so stupid that's not even funny. What was I thinking? Three years, Quinn. Almost three fucking years of silence and indifference. Of course he wants nothing to do with me. God, my foolishness is beyond words."

"You're not a fool, hon. You're only human and you're bound to make plenty of mistakes along the way."

"That almost sounds philosophical." Rachel says.

**"**That sounds like cheap psychology, but I really have faith that things will work out for you and Puck in the end. I wouldn't be encouraging you to put yourself out there if I didn't believe you guys can still work out your issues," Quinn reassures Rachel.

"I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you," Rachel comments bitterly.

"Rach, you didn't expect him to welcome you with open arms, did you? Puck loves you and deep down he's a softie, but you stomped all over his heart. There are serious trust issues that you guys will need to resolve."

"I know."

"You have to regain his trust by showing him that this time things will be different because you're mature enough to recognize your mistakes. And honey, he knows you were not being yourself back then. He knows you were hurting so badly," Quinn says trying to console Rachel.

"But I was so blinded by my guilt back then. What am I going to do, Quinnie?" Rachel rubs her forehead in distress before sighing, defeated. "I was so selfish that I didn't even realize Noah was hurting too. And I made things so much worse for him. Just so you know, I don't condemn him for what he's doing. I'd be doing the same thing if it was the other way around."

"I know, sweetie. He's not doing anything outrageous. Like you said, it's been almost three years. He's waited long enough."

"Yeah..."

"Have you guys at least talked before he kicked you out?"

"Kind of, or not really... I'm not sure how to you give a precise answer. Our encounter was so...so surreal," Rachel admits. "Noah kept his face void of expression and emotion throughout our entire conversationand he's made it clear he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"That seems perfectly normal, if you ask me. Surreal would be if he told you he loves you and had mind blowing sex with you for three days." Quinn says jokingly without missing a beat.

"Sex with Noah was always mind blowing," Rachel says, reminiscing on her glorious days with Noah as her lover, and as her_everything_.

"Someone's horny," Quinn points out, laughing.

"Be careful, Quinnie. Being desperately horny _can_be contagious. I know for a fact Finn's playing Detroit this weekend."

"At least I'm having phone sex. You, on the other hand...**"**

"I'm high and dry. But go on, just say it. I know you're dying to."

"Why? You already know you're high and dry because you made a mess out of things and I'm not going to be the bitch telling you "I told you so". You have Kurt to do that for you. But I'm sure you guys will make up eventually and then you can have the real thing and not shitty phone calls."

"We'll see about that."

A moment of silence goes by before Quinn finally says the words Rachel needs to hear.

"He may seem like a stranger right now, but he's still the same remarkable guy you fell for. He's still the same boy you left behind in Texas, but his heart is guarded and he won't give in. If you really want him back you're going to have to work harder than you ever worked before, but I guarantee it will pay off in the end."

"How can you be so sure he'll allow me back into his life?"

"Because I've spent the last three years hearing all about how much he misses you and how his life sucks without sleeping by your side every night."

"You never told me that," Rachel says, her voice cracking.

"Because I wanted you to make your own decision? And not to sound bitchy like Kurt, but it's not like you have allowed any of us to touch the Puck/Rach subject these last three years."

"I was a coward, wasn't I? I don't think he'll be able to look past all the pain I caused him."

"Rachel, I'm going to say it one more time. Pay attention: Noah Puckerman is absolutely crazy about you. He loves you so damn much and he WILL let you in. You just have to be patient and give him time."

"He might love and miss me, but what if he turns me down?"

"Just stop whining and play your cards right. Fight for him once in your life like he fought for you, show him how sorry you are, how good things can be and he'll give you another chance. And well if-if he doesn't, you make sure not to have any more regrets than the ones you already have."

"Thanks, Quinn. You're right, as always."

"Yeah, I know. I am genius. But as much as I'd love to keep talking, I have to get some sleep before I have to go back to work." Quinn says, yawning.

"You're working? Why am I only hearing about this now?" Rachel sounds surprised.

"I started working last week, but you and I both know we always have more important things to discuss over the phone. My job as an assistant at the local Tv station is nothing compared to you going to Florida to get your man back," Quinn sounds enthusiastically. "And where is he, by the way? He kicked you out and went to bed?"

"I wish. He tried to kick me out and when I refused to leave, he just left. He went to this stupid post-game debauchery just to avoid me."

"Then that's where you're headed. It might help if you put on a sexy outfit."

"Please! I could go naked and Noah would still not talk to me."

"Just shut up, Rach. Go out there and break a leg, alright? Call me tomorrow morning. Love you."

-x-

Puck's still busy pondering whether or not to go inside when some people stumble drunk and high out of the house. He looks away. Going back home and risk running into Rachel seems far more appealing than going in and mingling with groupies, his teammates and their wild party animal habits.

Menawhile, Mercedes opens her messy purse and rummages through it. She finds her cell phone, pulls it out and dials. "We're here," she informs the person on the other end and that breaks Puck out of his thoughts. "Yeah, we're going in," she says before flipping her phone shut and throwing it back in her huge stuffed blackhole of a purse.

Puck just watches her, confused.

"Come on, Puckerman. Time to get back out there! No more lame excuses," Mercedes says, dragging him to the door.

As they make their way inside, they are greeted by a crowd of screaming football fans, teammates, his other roommates Artie and Tina and some friends.

"Puck, Puck, Puck, Puck," People cheer and applaud him. He smiles, but deep down feels uncomfortable. His plan was to lay low for the night until things cooled down at home. Well, so much for a plan.

After a few minutes of madness, people go back to doing their own thing and Puck's glad - and relieved. He's not fond of attention.

Things progress smoothly. From time to time, someone offers him a beer or a shot of tequila, but he gently declines. He's disciplined and determined. He knows he has a practice to attend the following morning and he doesn't need a hangover to ruin it.

He ignores the head cheerleader's lame attempts to hit on him and watches amused as some of his friends and roommates play "I never". Mercedes has already had two shots of tequila, but she's doing fine. Tina, on the other hand, is drunk off her ass. Thankfully, Artie's the designated driver for the night. He's also Puck's teammate and knows better than to piss off their coach.

Puck's comfortable in his chair, legs crossed, a bottle of water in his hand when something-or, rather, someone in the crowd catches his eye.

He swallows hard. The air in the room suddenly becomes thick and extremely tense.

Rachel, dressed in a short denim skirt with a tight black top and strappy black stiletto sandals, stands near the staircase, a beer in hand and a glint in her eye that seems to say _"Are you going to grow a pair and talk to me? 'Cause we can do this all night."_

She stares at him for what seems like eternity, but he remains motionless. His friends are too busy playing the game and don't notice the exchange. Unfortunately, the same can't be said about Santana.

"Who's the bitch staring at you, over there?" She asks quietly, motioning her head to Rachel.

"I have no clue," he answers, still staring intently at the other girl. "Maybe I should go over there and find out," he provokes Santana's wrath.

"The great Noah Puckerman chasing after a girl? Why do I find that hard to believe?" Santana asks, her eyebrows going up in surprise.

"You bring up a valid point," he tells her smugly and decides not to move an inch. Keeping a safe distance is the best means to prevent conflicts. Public conflits, in fact.

He ignores Rachel for minutes-or, hours, and he's thankful when Santana finally leaves him alone to chase after the team's quarterback.

When Rachel finishes her first beer, she tosses the bottle across the room, sinking it easily into the trash can.

"I can't believe she still does that," he mutters to himself. People are still searching for the person who's tossed the bottle, but she's nowhere to be seen. She's already up the stairs, another beer in hand.

Sick and tired of playing games, Noah, who's seen her leaving the confused crowd, decides to stand up and follow her before she comes back downstairs and decides to play a round of "I never". She can pretty much ruin his tough guy image and reputation without even blinking.

He goes through three doors before knocking on the right one.

She looks at him and walks slowly back inside. Puck takes a deep breath and follows her, closing the door on his way in. She takes a seat on the edge of the bed and sips her beer, hoping for some liquid courage. Usually, words never fail her, but when it comes to _him_...

She has no plan, no speech prepared, nothing. All she wanted was to get him upstairs and have his full attention. She has it now, but doesn't know what to do with it. She wants to explain herself and to make him understand, but his piercing stare is intimidating.

As she figures out what to say, a thought occurs to him. It's a memory that he can't seem to forget.

_It's midnight and Rachel's still not home. Her cell phone is off and her friends haven't heard from her. Finn and Kurt, their friends and roommates, try desperately to calm Puck down, but fail miserably at it._

_Another hour goes by and Puck convinces his friends to go to bed. They have an early practice and they have to come up with an excuse for Puck's possible absence._

_The clock chimes two o'clock and he's still up, pondering whether or not to call hospitals and the police station._

_It's almost three a.m when Rachel finally graces him with her presence. He's sitting on the couch and he watches as she walks in, her face tear-stained and her eyes bloodshot. She's holding a liquor bottle and she's a little drunk. It's just weird. She doesn't drink._

_"I know it's late," she apologizes, resting the bottle on the coffee table and approaching him, "and I know you were worried," she continues, straddling his lap as she speaks._

_"You're drunk," he states flatly and rests his hands on her thighs._

_"Just a little," she replies, kissing his neck and inhaling his scent._

_"Why, Rach? Why do you keep running away? Should I get used to you drinking?"_

_"I'm not running, I promise. I just...I needed to be on my own."_

_"Why? To blame yourself for an accident? To drink yourself into a stupor? It's not your fault, you know," he whispers, almost inaudibly._

_"And it's not yours either, even though I make you feel like it is sometimes."_

_"I know you don't mean it," he says honestly, touching his forehead to hers._

_"God, I love you," she says, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss that intensifies quickly. "I want you so bad," she tells him, making him lose the little control he still has._

_He stands up, lifting her up to him, their mouths still joined and her legs wrapped around his waist._

_He maneuvers them into their bedroom and lays her gently on the bed. He lies on top of her and takes his time undressing her, exploring her body, kissing her senseless and making her forget their misfortunes._

_Hours later, he wakes up with her lying awake next to him. He can hear her breaths and he can feel them on his ear. She is so close and yet so far away. It's agonizing and it makes him wonder how long he'll be able to keep living like this._

"Do you think I'm a fool?" She asks, breaking him out of his memory.

"No, just a drunk bitch, and a party crasher, but not a fool," he replies rudely.

"I'm not drunk. Not yet, anyway," she states matter-of-factly. "I only got drunk twice and I was still with you when it happened," she says, "but I guess I needed something to pass the time while you were embarrassing me out there," she continues, raising her bottle in the air. "Who's the girl who was almost sitting on your lap? Oh, and let's not forget about the slut brigade and the creepy stares."

"I'm not going to apologize for them. They like me, so what? I'm not encouraging them and I don't see how I'm embarrassing you. The only one who knows about your pathetic existence is my roommate M.J and I'd really like to keep it that way."

The shock of his words jolt through her body, followed by a sickening chill. This is what she became: a sordid little secret. At this point she doesn't know if there's anything she can salvage.

"Don't tell me your NYADA friends have a clue about me," he poisons, expecting a reaction that doesn't come.

An excruciating silence overtakes the room, but Rachel can hear her heart pounding vigorously.

After a while, she gives Noah an answer.

"They do now..."

"Why-why now?" He asks bewildered.

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why? You're ending things, aren't you?" she says, turning away from him.

"I'm making your wish come true, Rachel. You made your choice a long time ago and I'm just doing what you should have already done." he says, closing the distance between them and lifting her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes. "You left me all alone in freaking Texas and moved to New York. Do you know how painful it was to pack all the shit you left behind? Do you have any idea how sucker punched I felt after everything? I took care of you, I kept my promise, I didn't break my v-"

"You called my parents, your parents and my best friend, for crying out loud. You humiliated me in front of everyone that I care about," she cuts him off harshly.

"I humiliated you? You're delusional," he shouts frustrated. "You wouldn't leave the fucking bed anymore. I fed you, I gave you baths, I covered for you with your teachers... Your memory must be very selective. I called our parents and Quinn because I didn't know what else to do. You wouldn't get better and I couldn't do anything right by you. And you know what? I don't regret calling them. You didn't leave me because I called them. You were leaving me either way."

"Noah-"

"I'm not finished," he says, clenching one of his fists while he's still holding her chin. "You broke my heart, but you showed me I deserve better. I'm not a Lima loser and I don't deserve to be treated like one," he finishes, his eyes glinting with anger. "I'm outta here," he whispers the last words, dropping her chin and walking away. He can't stand the sight of her breaking down in front of him and, frankly, he can't find the strength to care about her feelings at this point.

-x-

Downstairs, his roommates and teammates question him on his whereabouts and he comes up with a lie since Mercedes is not there to judge him. She's the DJ of the hour and she's having the time of her life.

Minutes later, he catches a glimpse of Rachel as she's descending the stairs, but he quickly looks somewhere else. He's had his quota of drama for the night.

By her fifth beer, Rachel finds herself in a state of emotional numbness. She also feels an increasing need to pee and she's almost sure she saw a bathroom somewhere. _"Upstairs",_ she thinks. And then she groans. She's not completely drunk, but half way there. She'll probably trip going up the stairs wearing her high-heels and decides it's be best to take them off. _Big mistake._

When she finally enters the bathroom, a foul odor invades her nostrils. She's disgusted and fails to notice the broken glass on the floor before stepping on it and severely cutting her right foot.

It starts bleeding a lot and she realizes she can't walk, but she doesn't feel any pain. It's one of the perks of being slightly drunk.

She leans against the bathroom wall for a while, until she becomes tired of balancing herself on one leg. She takes a seat on the dirty floor and wrinkles up her nose.

"Ick-"

She remains on the floor, staring off into space, for what seem like hours. Finally, someone comes to rescue her. It's one of the party goers. His name's Matt, and even though he's also one of the Gators' players, he's not as worried about pissing off the coach as some of his teammates are. He wants to take a leak, but as he enters, he sees the blood. He stops walking, and panics.

"Oh, fuck!" he exclaims, full of consternation.

"Calm down," Rachel tells him. She doesn't know the extension of the cut and she's too inebriated to care. "It's just a cut," she reassures him.

"We need to remove the glass and you'll need stitches," he says. "I'll find someone who's sober to drive you to the hospital," he continues, "I had a few beers plus I'm under 21," he blurts out and keeps going in a nervous tone, as if he can't control himself.

"Who's the designated driver tonight?" Rachel asks him, looking down at her foot.

Matt tries to remember who's driving him home and as he thinks, he crouches down and examines the cut.

"It doesn't look good."

"Yeah... so? The driver? He-llooo?"

"I'll find someone downstairs. Let's go," he says as he lifts her up off the floor to carry her downstairs.

As they descend the stairs, they hear hushed whispers and the feeling of curious people staring from every direction.

"Ar-tieee," Matt finally remembers who the designated driver is and calls his friend's name. Artie's playing pool with Puck and Mike and as soon as he hears his name being called, he raises his head, searching for Matt. Puck and Mike do the same.

Another moment goes by and they find Matt still descending the stairs with Rachel in his arms.

Artie and Mike move to help him, but Puck stands still. _"What the hell's going on?"_ he asks himself before he sees the blood, but once he sees it, memories of the last time he saw her bleeding take over his mind.

He stares wide-eyed and open-mouthed at the scene in front of him until he hears Mercedes' voice calling him out of his trance.

Acting by impulse, he heads to the stairs and carefully takes Rachel from Matt's arms.

"I'm sober," he tells the guys, "I'll drive her to the hospital."

"Hi, Noah. I knew you were my knight in shinning armor," Rachel comments in a drunken, slurred voice.

"You know this girl?" Artie asks, unable to recognize her.

"I do," Puck nods, making sure Santana's nowhere to be found.

"She's in my art class," Mercedes intervenes and both Rachel and Puck watch her quietly. "I know where she lives. Let's go, Puckerman," she commands, heading for the doorway. Puck follows, carrying Rachel in his arms. It's _still_ his duty to take care of her.

A long time ago, they made a promise. _To honor and cherish each other in sickness and in health, through times of happiness and uncertainty, until death do them part._

His promise's still intact, unlike Rachel's.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** I'm thankful for those of you who have expressed how you feel about the story and I'm also thankful for your suggestions, but I'm embarrassed to send you a proper reply because it's been so long. Thank you so much and I apologize for the lack of time to update and send out replies.

"_Don't worry about failure. Worry about the chances you miss when you don't even try." Unknown_

In the emergency room, Puck stands at the front desk barking demands at the airhead receptionist who has her eyes on the clock and doesn't give a damn about him. The look on her face says she thinks he's just another arrogant asshole trying to ruin the glorious end of another exhausting shift.

"Can't you see she's bleeding all over the floor? She's got a piece of glass stuck in her foot. A HUGE piece of glass, by the way," he argues, his tone growing frantic. He seems unable to comprehend why this bitter old hack with unfulfilled needs (_and he's one to talk about unfulfilled needs_) is making it her goal to piss him off.

"Do I look blind to you, Sir?" She asks, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Because I can certainly see the blood stains on your clothes and on the floor. What I'm trying to make you understand is that there are six other patients waiting to be seen by a doctor and they have been waiting for hours. Your friend just got here and she'll be taken care of once the doctor is done with the patients who got here first," she tells him unceremoniously.

"Thanks for nothing," he mutters with his characteristic anger.

"My pleasure," the unpleasant receptionist retorts, causing Puck to curse under his breath before stalking out of the Emergency Room

Outside he paces like a mad man. He's consumed by a feeling that's just too damn familiar to him. Being the responsible one is always more painfully excruciating than one thinks possible. He's also worried about the extension of Rachel's cut and about the fact that he has to get away from this hospital, - or any hospital, really.

He's fed up and needs to let some of his feelings out, but he can't bring himself to head back in and bother Mercedes. She's already doing more than she should.

He pulls his cell phone out of his jeans and makes a call. He doesn't even stop to consider the fact that the recipient of his phone call (_and his anger_) is probably fast asleep.

It rings twice before he gets an answer.

"Rachel?" He hears on the other end.

"You wish," he replies harshly.

"Oh, it's _you_," the interlocutor says with disdain.

"Fuck you, Fabray. You were my friend first."

"Great! Now we're waking our friends up in the middle of the night to have pissing contests over who's better friends with whom. Grow up, Puckerman. I'm going back to sleep because I'm sure your stupidities can wait a few more hours."

"Try Rachel's stupidities," he retorts in a sharp tone. "Fucking bitch's making me spend the night in the ER."

"Emergency Room?" Quinn asks, panicking and pushing her anger aside. She loves Puck and often defends him, but that doesn't mean she agrees with some of his latest actions.

"Yeah."

"Oh my God... what happened? Please tell me she's okay. Please, Puck-"

"It''s nothing major, Quinn. She stepped on some glass and cut her foot. Nothing to go crazy over," he says reassuringly.

"Thank God," Quinn breathes relieved.

"Don't get too happy, Fabray. From the looks of it, she's not going to be able to walk on her own for awhile and there's no way in hell I'm babysitting. So you either call her folks to come get her or wait for her in the airport, or you do it yourself. I'm shipping her off to one of you people."

"She's not a piece of luggage, Puckerman. And I suggest you stop being an asshole before it's too late," Quinn scolds Puck for the way he's treating Rachel.

"I'm the asshole? Come on, Quinn," Puck argues, defending himself. "You want to curse and lash out? 'Cause if you do, I suggest you start with your dear friend Rachel. She's the one who's always fucking things up. And let's not forget about the little stunt you just pulled."

"Excuse me? You're the one going all kinds of crazy on the phone, in the _middle_of the night."

"Don't act so innocent. You knew Rachel was coming to Florida and didn't bother to fucking call me. That's a shitty thing to do. She's your best friend and I get it, but you're not supposed to pick sides."

"You're the one who forced your current situation. The blame lays on you,_buddy_."

Quinn's declaration causes Puck to gasp in shock and disbelief. He cannot believe that she of all people has just spoken such words.

"I didn't know you had undergone a lobotomy," he blurts out in astonishment.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I expected more from you. Saying I'm the one to blame is just...it's icing on the cake. I-I-" he's so shocked he can't find the right words. "I-I don't fucking deserve to hear that from you," he's almost breaking down. "I've done everything in my power to help Rachel, to bring her out of her depression, to convince her we didn't do a fucking thing wrong and now I'm to blame? I can't believe you just said that. She jumped the ship, not me."

"I never said any of those things. I was only implying that you're to blame for her being in Florida," Quinn reasons with him. "You're the one who initiated the papers and sent Kurt and Finn to do_your_dirty work."

"Hummel and Hudson were heading to New York at the time and I sent them because I didn't want any lawyers knocking on her door."

"I don't care. Your approach was mean and inconsiderate. You didn't even give _me_ some warning."

"We're talking about your feelings now? You're bitching at me 'cause I told Finn not to tell you until I was ready to discuss things further? Is that what this is about?" He asks, unable to stop himself from laughing at the absurdity of the possible situation.

"No, dumbass. That's not it at all! We're talking about the fact that you should have let Finn tell me what you were doing so that I could prepare myself for what was coming. The day after Rachel got the papers she left New York and called me from Lima, begging me to spend the weekend back home with her. I didn't find out what was going on until I got there and I couldn't find ways to console her because it was so out of the blue."

"Out of the blue? It was three year too late," he says, his frustration getting the better of his self-control.

"Maybe it was, but you still should've told me or even let Finn tell me you were considering sending out divorce papers. I'd have prepared her or something. I'd have prepared myself, too. And I also think you should've gone to New York or waited for the holidays to break the news to her in person. You may not like her very much right now, but she's married to you, not to Kurt or Finn. And not to some fancy lawyer your step dad hired."

"I haven't seen or heard from her in years, Quinn. What kind of marriage is that? It's a fucked up one that ended a long time ago. The reason I didn't consider going to New York is clear as day to me. Rachel and I have nothing left to say to one another," he speaks, but he's deaf to his own words. There's no conviction and Quinn can tell.

"Do you actually believe that? Why would she have gone to Florida looking for you if there's nothing left to say?"

"I don't get why she's here and I don't really care enough to find out."

"Now you're just full of shit," Quinn admonishes. "I defend the idea that you should have talked to Rachel before ambushing her with divorce papers and I'm not even going to get started on that fucking confidentiality agreement. I know what she did sucks in many, many levels, but one mistake doesn't justify the other. If she's there, it's because she has something to say to you. Something that could've been said if you had delivered the papers yourself. So suck it up and listen to her. It may be your last chance of getting an explanation and we both know you've been hoping for one for the past three years. Don't think I forgot the endless conversations in which you said you loved her and missed her and a bunch of other crap. Take this chance and hear her out."

"Now you're just living up to the dumb blonde title," he says offensively. "You're delusional if you think I'm wasting my time listening to Rachel's sorry excuses."

"It's her sorry excuses or my foot up your ass," she says sternly. "I'm leaving her under your care for the time being. When she is ready and healed, you can drive her to the airport and get her on a plane to New York. If you so much as hurt her feelings, I'm clearing my schedule and I'm flying to Florida to kick you in the groin. It's your choice, Puckerman."

"I don't know why I'm friends with you. You're an unreasonable bitch, just like your friend Rachel."

"Just deal with your shit, Puckerman. There's no running from this. I'll call you and I'll check on Rachel in a few hours. Goodbye."

He's left with his thoughts once Quinn hangs up the phone. He paces for what seems like an eternity before leaning against the hospital walls with his head in his hands. That's the way Mercedes finds him when she walks outside.

"You're still pissed off? You really need to chill out. That receptionist is a class A bitch, but she's not the one you're mad at," she points out the obvious while toying with the pen she's been using to fill the ER forms with Rachel's information.

"But it's not Rachel either. Of course that given the shitty circumstances I'd rather have her in New York, as far away from me as possible, but it's this place that's driving me insane," he admits in a low voice. His hospital memories are the ones he wishes to erase (like most people, _obviously_).

"I know," Mercedes sympathizes. "The things I do for you, Puckerman. Go, get out of here. You can wait in the truck if you want. I'll stay inside with little miss sunshine," Mercedes declares, trying to sound as positive as possible.

"Nah, I should probably call you a cab. It's almost three in the morning and you should get some sleep before meeting Josh at the airport." Puck says, referring to Mercedes' boyfriend, who's coming home after spending two months at a recovery facility in Boston, taking care of a knee injury he suffered when the Gators played Ohio State.

"I'm not leaving," she insists. "I'm available 'til seven. Josh's flight lands at nine. Now you can either go wait in the truck, or you can go home," she orders. "You can't fool me, Puckerman. Don't think I didn't realize you could hardly breathe in the waiting-room."

"I appreciate you doing all this, but I can't leave. Rachel's drunk, incoherent, hurt and in a town she barely even knows. I can't be the scumbag who ditches her at the hospital with someone she barely knows, even if this person is one of my best friends."

"Life's a bitch, isn't it? She nearly destroyed you and you're still a man of your word. You don't exist, Puckerman."

"Sadly, I do. Sometimes I wish I didn't," he says somberly, but Mercedes thinks it's better to pretend she didn't hear him, at least for now.

Back inside, Rachel has her attention shifted to the television. "Runaway bride" is showing and even in her drunken state she can't stop thinking it's just _horrifically_ _fitting!_

Mercedes rejoins her after leaving Puck outside with his thoughts. She was able to convince him to go and get them some coffee because thanks to the receptionist, their night's only just beginning.

"We have to fill in these forms," Mercedes says flatly. "Name?"

"Rachel. Duh..."

"Full name, diva," Mercedes says, sending a nasty glare in Rachel's direction.

"Rachel Berry-Puckerman. It's P-U-C-"

"No need to spell. I've seen his jersey on my washing machine one too many times.

"Oh...right... You're one of Noah's roommates. You and some girl named...er-I don't remember," Rachel says, trying way too hard to remember Tina, the girl who shares the house with Puck and Mercedes.

"Tina Cohen-Chang. And now Artie Abrams's also living with the three of us. Not that it's any of your bussiness." Mercedes says curtly.

An awkward silence takes over before Rachel finds a way to break it.

"It makes perfect sense for you to despise me. You're Noah's friend, sort of his sidekick and you know all about how I nearly destroyed his life and what a heartless bitch I am."

"You're the one saying it."

"I'm just point out the obvious..."

"I do despise what you've done, but I don't know how Puck really feels. He's only given me facts; he kept his thoughts and opinions to himself. Not that you deserved to know that."

"So he's not bad-mouthed me? That's...that's somehow comforting."

"Enough with the heart-to-heart. Let's fill in the forms. Your best friend's name's Quinn Fabray, right?"

"You know Quinn?"

"Nope, just talked to her once or twice over the phone, when she called Puck."

"I didn't know that. But why are you asking her name?"

"For your contact info."

"Wouldn't it be easier to write down Noah's name and phone number? Quinn's miles away and whether Noah wants it or not, he's still my husband, in sickness and in health," Rachel points out, knowing she's being a hypocrite for bringing up their wedding vows. She's the who failed miserably to follow them.

"And sadly, he's well aware of that," Mercedes mutters, not really caring if Rachel heard her of not.

She did, and even in her drunken state, she can't help but think Puck's not the only overprotective nag in their relationship.

At approximately five in the morning, Mercedes is bored out of her mind, Rachel's asleep and Puck's calm and back inside the Emergency Room, thinking that desperate moments call for drastic measures. The thought occurs to him while he's looking to the front desk, observing a younger and happier receptionist starting her shift.

Thinking it can't get any worse than it already is, he decides to use some of his dead and buried high-school days badassness.

He walks toward the newly arrived girl and starts flirting with her. He feeds her ego with compliments that make no sense whatsoever and explains that "his cousin" needs to be seen by doctor because he has to take her home and get some sleep before his football practice, or the Coach will chop his head off. There are giggles from the girl and she even scribbles her phone number on a piece of paper and hands it to him, saying she'll make sure Rachel's the next patient because it'd be a shame if the Coach hurt him and made it impossible for him to call her.

He finishes their interaction by smiling at her and walking back to his seat. And as he does so, he seems to be thinking two things:

1- How predictable some girls are.

2- How deep down there's still an asshole hidden somewhere in him, waiting to come out at any given chance.

Ten minutes later, the doctor is calling Rachel's name, but she's still sleeping like the dead and Puck has to carry her and place her on the gurney inside the room where the doctor's working. She stirs, but doesn't wake up.

"Are you related to her?" The doctor asks while washing his hands.

"She's my wife," he says quietly, looking down to the ground.

Puck's discomfort is evident and the doctor doesn't ask other questions. He removes the glass, cleans the wound area and stitches Rachel's foot. As soon as he finishes the small procedure, he gives Puck several instructions such as to keep Rachel from stepping on her foot for a few days and to bring her back to remove the stitches in a week. He also tells Puck to get the prescription that will be left for him at the front desk.

When Puck walks back to the reception with a still sleepy Rachel in his arms, Mercedes walks in his direction and they go to the front desk, where the receptionist has the prescription. She doesn't seem pleased.

"The doctor said you should make sure _your wife_takes her meds every twelve hours," she keeps a professional tone, but her anger is plain as day.

"Anything else?" Puck asks, avoiding her hateful gaze.

"No, jackass," she shoves the piece of paper in his face, disgusted by his behavior. He takes the paper from her, mutters an apology and leaves, feeling guilty for using such a nice girl, and like a pussy for even caring. The old Puck was a badass. Badasses don't care about the means to conquer results.

Without much of an option, Puck and Mercedes come to the realization that they don't know where Rachel's staying and that leaving her on her own when she's unable to walk without crutches is a coward move. So they take her home with them and Mercedes tells Puck she'll find Josh's old crutches. They are hidden somewhere around the house or maybe they're at his apartment.

On their way, Puck reflects on what he said to Quinn. He told her he wouldn't take care of his soon to be ex-wife, but he knew he was lying the moment the words came out of his mouth. There's no way he'd be able to ditch her at her hotel room without worrying.

When asked by Mercedes what he thinks they should tell Tina and Artie, Puck mumbles almost inaudibly that they should tell them the truth.

At home, Puck takes Rachel to his bedroom and lays her on his bed. He covers her with his bedspread and checks to see if she has his phone number on her contact list. Surprisingly, she does. So he leaves a note on his nightstand next to her mobile phone saying to call him if she needs anything. He leaves Mercedes' phone number on the note, too.

Deciding there's no way he'll make it to practice, he calls the Coach and leaves a message on his answering machine saying something happened to a member of his family and that he won't be able to make it today. He's not telling a complete lie.

Finally, he showers, puts on a change of clothes and lies on the living room couch. Sleep is elusive and uncomfortable at best.

Hours later, he wakes up and heads to the kitchen, looking for coffee. He sees Josh and Mercedes having lunch with Tina and Artie. He's completely forgotten it's Saturday and is completely clueless about what time is it. They greet him and he shares a manly hug with Josh, saying he's glad his teammate's back.

"Grab a plate and try Tina's new invention," Artie suggests.

"I'm not really hungry, but I'll join you guys anyway. I just have to-"

"She's still asleep. I checked on her twenty minutes ago when Tina finished cooking. I'm not a fan of her or anything like that, but I'm not denying her food, water or helping her to the bathroom," Mercedes tells Puck.

"Have you told them about her?" He asks, looking at his friends and wondering what they know.

"I told them she's someone from your past; someone you cared about deeply. They respect your privacy enough not to ask questions," Mercedes answers his question, giving him a reassuring smile.

"And I respect them enough to give them the truth," Puck says, grabbing a plate and taking a seat. As Mercedes and Tina serve him some food, he comes up with the Cliff's Notes version of his and Rachel's story. And as his friends listen, they try their best not to pass judgment on Rachels actions or make any assumptions.

Later on, he takes a plate upstairs and knocks on his own bedroom door. He finds Rachel staring at her foot and on the phone with who he assumes to be Kurt.

She sees him, invites him inside and hangs up the phone.

He shifts from one foot to the other as he appears to be choosing his words very carefully. He offers her the plate and she takes it, smiling softly, saying she's dying to pee and for food, in that order. She even admits she's called Kurt looking for suggestions because she's uncomfortable to ask for his help.

He's not happy about the entire situation, but he says she's being silly and helps her up. Once they reach the bathroom, he excuses himself and shuts the door behind him. She takes her time and with some difficulty she manages to jump on one foot to the sink and takes the chance to wash her face, hands and her mouth. She also curses herself for not having a tooth brush, or a bag.

He waits patiently outside and once she's done, he carries her back to his bed, takes a seat on his desk chair and tells her she should eat before it gets cold. She takes a few bites in silence until Puck feels he can't take it anymore. He is, as Quinn pointed out, full of shit. Even though he denied being curious, he's dying to know Rachel's real reasons for being in Florida. It can't be just the fact that she's not signing the confidentiality agreement and he can't see why she wouldn't sign their divorce papers. It's what she wanted all along.

"Now that kicking you out is no longer an option, can I ask you why you're here? Honestly?" he says, letting his walls down even if just for a moment.

She takes a deep breath and stares at her plate for a second before meeting his eyes. Things can't become any worse and she decides it's time to take the chance to try to get him to listen to what she wants and to her plans regarding their relationship before he decides she's not worth his time.

"I love you," she says quietly and watches for a reaction, praying for a positive one.

"Sometimes that's not enough," he instantly says back, shaking his head in sadness and misery. He can't understand why she's saying those words now and he can't really bring himself to discuss it further.

"I don't need you to throw my words back in my face," she comments, keeping her voice neutral and dragging her eyes back to her plate.

"I'm not. My decision to send out divorce papers wasn't a reckless one. It was a long time coming, we both know it, and I didn't send the papers to you until I was finally able to grasp the meaning of those words."

"I was wrong when I said them."

"No, you weren't," he says softly as he shakes in head.

"But I was. I was angry at myself and, even though I know I shouldn't, I was _so_ mad at you. I lashed out, Noah."

"You nearly destroyed me that day, Rachel. I spent hours on the phone begging your parents and Quinn for your address and they wouldn't give me. And then I went out to Cincinnati and I think Quinn gave it to me out of pity. I was naive enough to expect a better reaction than the one you had when you saw me and-" and as he tries to continue, his voice cracks. He takes a moment to regain his composure before continuing. "You blamed me for everything, didn't you? You don't have to tell me, I know that already. I could see it in your eyes the day of our accident and then the day you left Texas and when I went to New York. The sad thing is that at some point, I even blamed myself. I actually blamed myself before and after the accident, thanks to you," he finishes in pain.

"None of the things that happened were your fault. The accident was something beyond our control and the rest... before and after...well, it wasn't your fault either. It was no one's fault, really," she admits. "I'm deeply sorry for the pain I caused you, Noah. I know I made you hate me. When you told me about your fears and how maybe certain things weren't meant to be for us at the time I just... I just lost it. And you were there and you were the easy target," Rachel tries to justify her past actions, but she breaks apart. "You were telling me the truth and my actions only proved you right. Like I said, I'm so sorry, Noah. I really am. And I understand it if you hate me."

"I don't hate you," he says as he laughs a pained laugh. "Hating you is just... it's the one thing I know I'll never do. If only you could reciprocate."

"Noah, I know I-"

"I don't get it, Rach," he says softly and she smiles. He hasn't called her Rach in a long time and she misses the sound of it coming out of his mouth. "I finally find the strength to ask you for a divorce believing it's what you want and instead of signing the papers you show up, claiming you love me. How fucked up is that?"

"I already told you I love you and-and-"

"Just say it. You never had a problem with words."

"I don't think you'll like what I have to say."

"It hasn't been about my likes/dislikes for the past three years. It's been about-"

"Me. I know."

"So? Care to tell me why you're here other than to tell me you love me?"

"I'm here because I'm sorry. I'm trying to listen to my heart. I can't let things end like this. I have believed that for almost a year, but I just couldn't bring myself to face you and face the pain I caused you."

"A year? That's.. wow.. I'm sorry you waited this long, I really am. But you're sorry and I'm sorry and still...well, it doesn't change anything," he ponders patiently.

"Why not? I'm sorry, I love you and I'm willing to put the past behind and fight for us, but I need you to meet me halfway."

"I can't, Rachel. This..this is insane. What you're aking of me. The past few years have been complete hell, but I'm ready to move on. I really am and I can't go back. I can't open up to you. I-I-"

"You?"

"Forget it, Rachel. Just... just let it be. Please let it be."

"No, Noah. You're not the only one hoping for honest answers here. Say it, I don't care. Just say the words you were going to say."

"My honesty drove you halfway across the country."

"I can't walk, remember?" she jokes, trying to lighten up the mood.

"I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have."

"You didn't hurt me. It was the other way around and we both know it. You were saying you can't open up to me. Why not? I won't make the same mistakes again, I promise."

"Rach-I...I really can't open up to you,"

"I love you and I know a part of you still loves me."

"It's not just a part, Rachel," he admits against his better judgment.

"You just gave me reason to believe I can get you to forgive me and let me in. We'll be happy again if you give me the chance, Noah. It's going to take time, but we can be us again."

"There is no us," he says with no uncertain amount of sadness.

"Don't say that!" She practically begs him to take back his words.

"I'm not saying it to be mean. I don't like hurting you, but you let go of me three years ago and it took me a long time and_a lot_ of heartache to look into a divorce. I've been stuck long enough and it's time to move on from this mess we created."

"We can move on together."

"I don't think we can."

"Come on, Noah. I'm willing to do anything in my power to get things back to the way they were. I'll even leave New York behind if I have to and-."

"And give up your dreams of becoming a Broadway star like you did last time? You can't do that. You're good enough to be up on the stage singing and dancing and I don't think you'd be happy if you didn't at least give it a shot. Actually, I know for a fact that you wouldn't be happy. You'd have the same regrets you had three years ago."

"It's different this time, Noah. And you know better than that. I didn't leave you just because I thought I wouldn't be able to explore my potential."

"Rach, it's not different. You married me knowing you were putting your dreams on hold and you didn't do it because you were ready, or because you really wanted to. You just went along with my plan. You felt like you had to do it, like that was your chance of having the perfect little family neither of us had, even if the timing sucked. And then, when it all went to shit, you realized that being married to me and studying in Texas were never part of _your_ plan. It's the one thing I regret the most. Trying to get you to do what you weren't meant to."

"You're so wrong, Noah. I wanted to be your wife. I still want that, if you give me the chance. I was just immature and angry. About the accident, about all that happened before and after it. The accident was a major contributing factor to my decision and-"

"It wasn't the accident, Rach. You know we had nothing to do with it. We were just there, at the wrong place, at the wrong time. It was the discussion we had before the accident. You hated hearing the truth coming out of my mouth."

"I won't lie and say I was happy about what you said."

"It's okay to say that you hated me for those words. I know you did. I even hate myself sometimes."

"The feeling's mutual, Noah. I could never hate you. I just wrongly blamed you until it became so painful to even breathe the same air as you."

"And then you left."

"And that's the one thing I'll always regret."

"We all have regrets," he says, but it's just a failed attempt to console both of them.

"But we can stop regretting things, Noah. It's not too late. Are you really willing to keep fighting us? To fight what we feel, what we need?"

"You just got here, Rachel. You just got here and professed your supposed love for me and you expect me to change my entire plan? I can't. It's not that simple."

"I don't see why not. I'm willing to move, to follow you and I'm not asking for much. I'm asking for a chance, to start slow and see if we can get back on track. Why can't you let me in, Noah? Why can't you wait and see if things won't work out for us? You waited three years to ask me for a divorce. What's a few more months?"

"Remember you asked for it. I wasn't going to give you the truth because I don't want to hurt you anymore than I already have, but you pushed for it," he warns her.

"I want nothing but your honesty."

"It's just..." he struggles before finding the strength to say the words out loud.

"Just?"

"It's just that I can't trust you, okay? I just can't," he tells her, expecting her to be surprised, which she isn't.

Feeling there's nothing more to be said for the time being, he leaves his chair and walks out of the room, leaving Rachel sad and heartbroken by her own actions.


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:** No, you're not delusional. I'm updating this story. Plus, I just want to thank everyone for the private messages, reviews etc. They are so important. You have no idea. Also, I apologize in advance for possible mistakes. I don't have a beta and I my native language is not English.

"_Second chances do come your way. Like trains, they arrive and depart regularly. Recognizing the ones that matter is the trick." Jill A. Davis. _

Puck quickly descends the stairs muttering something to himself. He's so tormented he fails to notice the alarmed stares from his friends. He heads to the laundry room, grabs his running shoes and frantically puts them on. He's out the door before Mercedes is able to reach him.

As she watches him leave, she looks pissed. The feeling of impotence that takes over drives her insane. She knows she can help her friend by keeping him from having to do things for Rachel during her time in their house, but that's not enough. She wishes she could take his pain away.

She sighs and returns to the living-room. She reclaims her spot on the couch next to her boyfriend and complete silence follows as Tina, Artie and Josh try to process the things they were told over lunch. Mercedes, on the other hand, seems to be organizing her thoughts on how to pass the week as smoothly as possible.

"Should I go get my snickers and follow him?" Artie finally breaks the quietude.

"I think we should let him cool off," Tina says. "I know we were just told the whole story, but I suppose this was a long time coming. Her coming here, I mean."

"I don't know. I didn't think she'd show after so long," Mercedes seems to disagree. "I learned this shit two months after Puck got here and even though I disliked Rachel's actions from day one, I tried to compromise and understand. To be honest, I sort of may have encouraged him to fly out to New York when Sophomore year ended. Needless to say nothing good came out of it. She treated him like dirt and I assumed she was done with him then," Mercedes explains.

"Apparently not," Tina replies. "She's here, isn't she?"

"Do you think something good can come out of her being here?" Josh asks with a tinge of concern in his voice.

"I think it's a low blow. Her timing is totally awful. It sucks, actually. She had a long time to come, to mend things, to make them right. And now? Now he's ready to move on. Maybe he's not ready to open himself up to a new relationship, but he's ready to let go of her, to embrace his career, be in the public eye and deal with all the things that come with fame and fortune. And you know what? He should be given the chance to make a clean break. He's been working so hard for this and I believe he deserves that much from her." Mercedes points out. The love for her friend evident in her voice.

"I'd say he deserves that much from life, if you ask me. The guy can't catch a break. First he gets screwed over by his dad, who walks out on him and never bothers looking back. Then if that's not enough, he goes and falls in love with the girl who's had her life plans made up since she was a toddler. I'm sorry, but moving to Texas with her? Big mistake there, not to mention all the other crap that followed. "

"I agree with Artie. NYU even without a scholarship would have been a better choice. She'd not defer her NYADA acceptance and from day one he'd get some student loan or accept his stepfather's help. Life would have been easier then."

"Yeah, Josh. But then again NYADA demanded 24/7 dedication. Activities she wouldn't be to fulfill. Let's not forget it wasn't just about two young adults and their college experience. They went to Texas because it wasn't about themselves anymore. In Texas she'd have more free time in her hands and their friends Kurt and Finn would be there to back them up," Tina clarifies.

"I don't think discussing what they should or shouldn't have done will change anything, you guys. What's done is done. It's water under the bridge. Now all we can do is help our friend get himself out of this messy situation the best way possible. It's clear as day that he's hurting by her presence and we have to find ways to make things better for him without interfering too much." Mercedes says, closing the discussion and the "what ifs".

"Any plans?" Artie questions.

"As a matter of fact, I've been thinking about some things we can do."

Puck runs for about an hour and a half before he buys himself a water bottle and takes a seat on one of the benches by the campus lake. He looks exhausted and slightly enraged. There are bags under his eyes and he keeps squeezing the bottle he just drained.

He looks down the ground and shakes his head. How did things get so twisted? He can't help but to laugh at himself and the irony of the current situation. The night before his biggest problem was having his teammates hassling him about going to a party. He'd give anything to go back in time.

Lost in his thoughts he doesn't notice when he's joined by someone who takes a seat on the other end of the bench. It's Coach Schuester and he looks worried. He knows for a fact Noah Puckerman is his most responsible player. He's also aware that the boy doesn't miss practices. He just doesn't.

Coach Schuester stares out toward the lake and waits for Puck to notice him. When he finally realizes the boy won't look up, he clears his throat to announce his presence. Puck soon directs his gaze toward him and mumbles an apology.

"I got your message this morning. Can't say I wasn't worried," the Coach comments caually and tries not to force some confession out of his player.

"Sorry, Coach. I really couldn't make it today."

"It's okay. Most of the guys were hung over so there was no point for a practice. It was fun though. To watch them run endless laps and ride their asses to make sure it won't happen again."

"But you know it will, don't you?" Puck says, half-smiling.

"But where's the fun in knowing? Or in having them know I know? I have to pretend I expect the situation not to repeat itself or I won't be able to punish them again for getting their asses wasted during playoffs.

"You're mean, Coach."

"That's why I'm the head Coach and Coach Beiste is stuck with defense. She wanted me to send them home and appreciate their last night effort. Can you believe that? Wouldn't it be very uncharacteristic of me? Which brings me to why I'm here, trying to find out what has kept you from today's little party of Schuester. Missing a practice is very uncharacteristic of you."

"Tell me about it."

"I was going to call you, but Emma asked me to come get a book from her office and I saw you sitting here so...?" The Coach then pressures him for an answer. He feels it's his duty to try and help Puck. He can't let anything interfere with his player's game when he is so close to being drafted.

"Sure you want to know?" Puck lifts his head and meets the Coach's eyes for the first time.

"I'm asking, aren't I?"

"It's stupid, really."

"If it's important enough for you to miss your first practice in the three years you've been here, then stupid is the last thing I'd call it."

Puck sighs. He's so tired of sharing things with other people. Over the past twenty-four hours he's talked more than he usually talks in a month.

"Do you remember when I first came here? To visit?"

"And how could I forget? You came to my office with your stepfather and to put it in a nice way, you looked like shit. Kind of how you look now."

"Nice, Coach. Kick a guy when he's down."

"It's part of my charm. But go on, what about the first time you came here? You came, watched our practice, said you had watched our tapes, recited our scores, our abilities, disabilities and made me pissed because the University had only allowed me to offer you half a scholarship the year before," the Coach reveals something Puck had no knowledge of, but doesn't really get a reaction from his player.

"It wouldn't have mattered if you had given me a full ride back then, just so you know. My stepfather had the money to pay for the remaining of my tuition, like he's been doing now, but I'd still have chosen Texas back then."

"Because of your family, right?"

"The family I no longer have? Yeah. We needed to compromise back then so we did. The music program here is not really fancy and the football there is just as good."

"You hurt me with your words, Puckerman."

"Well, they are pretty damn good, Coach. My best friend is their quarterback and he's the shit. His stepbrother, the kicker, wow. Dude's got skills."

"Hummel? Yeah. That foot of his can be trouble. But let's not diverge. What happened?"

"You see, I came here because I couldn't be there anymore. I couldn't be there anymore for a number of circumstances, one of them being Rachel, my dearly beloved soon to be ex-wife," he says, but stops to laugh at himself before continuing. "Who am I kidding? The reason I couldn't be there _was_ Rachel. Oh, there was that damn nursery. And that stupid corner and-whatever."

"So? I know you guys ended things in a terrible way, but that's in the past, isn't it? Time to move on. Divorce papers, confidentiality agreement like we talked about-"

"I wish things were that easy, Coach. What you don't know is that she decided to show up, out of the blue, uninvited after getting the papers. Can you believe that? I send out divorce papers and instead of getting them signed and ready to file, I get her knocking on my door, claiming she loves me."

"That's-...huge? Man... That's some unexpected horrible news, right?" The Coach says, taken aback by Rachel's appearance after almost three years of silence.

"And if it wasn't enough, she followed me to the party, which I attended and didn't drink a sip, by the way, and got herself in an accident that prevents her from walking for the next week or so. As a result, I spent the night with her in the emergency-room and now she's there, lying in my bed, unable to leave."

"That's not good," the Coach says, bewildered.

"That's totally fucked up," Puck says in an exasperated tone. "I spent the last hour trying to find ways to kick her out, but her best friend refuses to come get her and I can't call her parents because I can't deal with them flying here right now. Coach, what do I do? Do I take her back to New York kicking and screaming and leave her at her place? Or do I take care of her? Maybe then we'll have some closure. Ha- Like we need anymore closure. Three years _is_ enough closure."

"Taking her home is an option," the Coach ponders.

"But it's what an asshole would do, isn't it?"

"You've earned the right to be one, Puckerman."

"Yeah, but it's doesn't make me feel any better."

"Have you guys talked?"

"Talked? Let's see: She showed up at my house and said a bunch stuff while I tried to kick her out. When she wouldn't leave, I left, slammed the door on my way out and went to a party I wasn't planning on going. She then showed up there, dressed like she wanted to provoke me, managed to do it and we ended up having another fucked up conversation in which I hurled accusations, she took them, and I left again. Finally, we talked today. It was inevitable, but I wish we didn't."

"That's when she told you she loves you?"

"Yeah. She also claimed she's not the same person she was back when she left me and asked for a second chance, Coach. She practicallybegged me for a second chance. That's just ridiculous at this point. Want to know what I did?"

"Left?" The Coach asks the question to which he already know the obvious answer.

Puck nods.

"She can't really blame you for that. Tell her she was a great teacher," Schuster says, joking to ease some of the tension.

"I think I already rolled with that one," Puck says as he shakes his head, frustrated with his situation and feelings.

"Puckerman, we can talk until we're blue in the face and I won't come up with anything to solve your problem. What I can offer you though is a week off from practice to figure out at least some of this mess. And before you go and refuse, I know how important it is for you to play these next games and to perform well, but you can't avoid dealing with your personal issues. Postponing things will get you nowhere."

"Fine. I'll skip practice if I have to and I'll deal with things. I won't run like she did."

"Now I have one more question before I leave you to your thoughts."

"Go for it."

"It's written all over your face that you're still very much in love with this girl. Bad shit aside, plus the fact that she's also in love with you-"

"Coach-" Puck says in a warning tone.

"Don't tell me not to go there, 'cause I'm going there anyway. Shit aside, isn't it worth trying again now that you know she's in love with you?"

Puck contemplates the question for a while. He looks down to the floor and sighs before giving an answer.

"I _really_ don't know Coach. I talked to her and there was one thing that didn't occur to me. I figured it out after running for a while."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think Rachel's in love with the idea of me and vice-versa. I guess she thinks she's in love with the guy I once was. It's the same for me. We don't know who the other is anymore. You see, three years is a very long time and I know I have changed a lot. I guess she has, too. So what if I open up and it doesn't work out? I barely survived losing her once. I can't risk going through everything again. What if she's not changed so much? Or what if she's changed for the better? I can't risk it. I finally found some balance, you know? I can stand on my own feet and not hurt all the time."

"Puckerman, I'll quote Emma and you're going to shut up and think about it. Really think about it."

"Okay."

"Whenever she has a new kid to deal with, a kid who doesn't seem worthy of her time, or who seems hopeless, she takes a deep breath and says to herself, which I quote: "Don't worry about failure. Worry about the chances you miss when you don't even try". Now don't say anything. Not yet. Just think about it, alright?"

"Alright," Puck nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully despite his exhaustion.

As Puck reflects on his next move, his friends take some action to help him.

Artie and Tina head to Puck's bedroom to get acquainted with their house guest. Unlike Mercedes, who's tough and won't demonstrate her hidden compassion, the two of them are friendly and don't pass judgment on Rachel.

"Excuse us," Tina says, smiling and half opening the door after knocking softly.

"Err-hi?" Rachel offers timidly. They catch her unprepared.

"I'm Tina," The girl says, extending her right hand as she walks to the bed.

"Rachel," Rachel says, shaking Tina's hand.

"And this," Tina says, looking back at the shy boy who's walking behind her, "is my friend Artie."

"Hello, Artie."

"Hi, Rachel. It's nice to finally put a face to the name."

"Oh... So you know about me? I thought-"

"We didn't know up until a few hours ago, but we figured there was a girl a long time ago," Artie admits.

"Oh..." Rachel's face flushes.

"Whatever. Here's the deal Rachel: we were told you're staying with us so we figured you needed some things."

Rachel raises her head and confusion is shown in her eyes. In the back of her mind she had a few doubts about being allowed to stay.

"A shower is on top of the list." Rachel says as she looks down to her foot and tries to find a way to shower and get rid of the ER and party smell.

"Yeah, we imagined that much. So here's what we're going to do: You tell us where you were staying before getting here and we'll get your stuff and check you out. Mercedes is looking for Josh's crutches, but I think you'll need help with your shower so I'll give you a hand. Meanwhile, Artie will change Puck's sheets and get you some pillows to make you a little more comfortable. After we get things done, we can go downstairs and make some snacks for our movie marathon."

Rachel's speechless when Tina is done talking. She can't thank her enough for being nothing short of amazing. She likes this girl. And truth be told, she doesn't dislike Mercedes either. She admires her for her loyalty.

"So? Where were you staying?" Artie asks, but Rachel's still wide-eyed and impressed so she takes a moment to answer.

"At the Plaza Palace," she finally says. "Under Rachel Berry Puckerman. Tell them to call me on my cell phone and take my ID with you guys. Just don't mind my mess. I didn't know what to wear last night so I-," she stammers, ashamed to admit this last bit.

"So you tried everything you had on your suitcase, right? I'm a girl, too, Rachel. Whenever I go to a party it's like a hurricane stopped by my bedroom," Tina admits with a wink and Rachel instantly feels better. She's telling Quinn about this girl as soon as she's out the door. "Look, we'll get everything together and try to be back as soon as possible. Mercedes is somewhere downstairs with Josh so you can call her if you need anything. They won't leave the house until we're back."

"Thank you both."

"We'll see you in a bit," Tina says, walking out with Artie by her side.

They leave Rachel with her thoughts. She calls Quinn and tells her not to worry because she's fine. The girls talk for a few minutes and Rachel tells Quinn she's glad someone is getting her things back for her. Quinn then says Rachel's a piece of work and they laugh. They end the call with Rachel telling Quinn she's happy that Puck has made friends in Florida he can count on. She also tells Quinn she'll keep her up to date.

The sun is setting by the time Puck finds it in himself to get back home. He feels bad about dumping Rachel on his friends, but he knows they won't criticize him.

He enters the house quietly through the backdoor to dump his sneakers in the laundry-room. Then he heads to the stairs in the living room but stops dead in his track before reaching his destination. From the kitchen doorway, where he stands, he sees Rachel, showered and sprawled on the couch, sharing snacks and watching some random movie with Artie, Tina and their friend Mike, who's probably there to give Mercedes and Josh some privacy.

No one seems to have heard him and he's content to just watch them quietly before making his presence known. His thoughts drift away. They go back to a time when things were simpler and happier. Back to when the weight of the world wasn't upon him.

_"Shush, Puckerman," Quinn warns him in a stern tone. _

_"Make me, Fabray. You guys can't be serious. You invite my bro Finn and I to a movie marathon and want us to watch chick flicks? No fucking way," his tone is just as stern. _

_"Can't you two play nice? For like-I don't know, five seconds? Rachel, get your diva ass back here, please. Puck and Quinnie are at each other's throats," Kurt says loudly, urging Rachel to come and put an end to his misery. _

_"Coming," Rachel says. _

_She soon arrives with a tray of sandwiches. She is followed by Finn who's carrying some sodas and just seems happy to be spending time with Quinn, despite the movie choice. _

_"What happened, Kurt? Why do Quinn and Puck keep staring at each other with murderous eyes?" _

_"Same old. Puck hates our movie choices." _

"_My poor baby. But don't you worry. I have Transformers 4 in my backpack," Rachel says and Puck's eyes lighten up. _

_"I knew you wouldn't disappoint, babe," he compliments her. "I promise I'll reward you later, okay?" he finishes in a playful tone, making Rachel blush furiously._

Puck reminisces for a moment, but the laughter caused by one of the scenes of the movie breaks him out of his reverie. Maybe he could consider Coach Schuester's words. Maybe then movie marathons could become just as amazing as they once were.


End file.
